The Bookstore
by AubreyAnne
Summary: Adrien steps into a bookstore for a cup of coffee and his life is never the same.
1. Chapter 1

The first time that Adrien Agreste went to the book store, he didn't notice her. No- that's not quite true- he had a vague memory of hearing the ding as the bell chimed above his head, his eyes swept over the front counter, littered with bookmarks and pens, across the hundreds of new and used books as the shelves supporting them minutely dipped under their combined weight, and over the few people, who sat curled up in plush armchairs, reading and basking in the gentle sunlight that filtered in through large, rounded windows.

He supposed that she must have been in one of those chairs- she reminded him often that that was the first day that she had seen him- but he had other things on his mind. He could smell roasting coffee and hear the whir of an appliance mixing a drink and his mouth watered. Walking further back into the deceptively large store, Adrien passed bookshelf after bookshelf on both sides. His eyes swept over the sections: _'fiction', 'history', 'self-help', 'cooking'_ … each bookcase boasted a different subject.

 _'There's time for that later.'_ He chided himself mentally and, as the machine whirred to life once more, Adrien remembered why exactly he had stopped in: coffee. He was in great need of a cup of coffee. Nino had recommended that he try the vanilla dark roast at this particular store months ago, and Adrien was ashamed that he hadn't been able to heed his friend's suggestion earlier- his schedule always had a way of keeping him from the things that he most wanted to do.

Perhaps that was his own fault, perhaps he should be more forceful with his father and refuse to do so many activities on top of his modeling career, and perhaps he shouldn't still be vying for praise after years of disinterest. Before he knew it, he was in the very back of the store, large display cases predominately showing off delicious looking pastries and snacks in neat, tidy rows.

"Can I help you, sir?" The low, disinterested voice cut through machine noise and Adrien's thoughts respectively. His wide, surprised green eyes flitted over to take in the springy brown hair, the flawless caramel skin, and the bright brown eyes of the barista. She wore a simple white polo, black slacks, and a flowery purple apron tied snugly around her waist.

"Uh," Adrien took a moment to collect his thoughts and glancing back down to the baked goods. "My- my friend suggested the vanilla dark roast…" Trailing off awkwardly, his hand motioned towards the food. "What would you recommend I eat with it?"

Seeing the small, determined grin stretch across the barista's confident features, Adrien knew he was in for a treat.

"I know just the thing; what size would you like your coffee?" Turning away from him, yet still well within hearing range, the worker sauntered over the grab small bag before striding over and bending down to open the display and grabbed three chocolate macaroons.

"A medium please." His mouth was already watering as she placed the sweets on the counter and went to grab the hot beverage. How had Nino neglected to mention the baked goods- he'd have to text him about it and ask.

Glancing around, Adrien took note of the hand drawn letters and designs plastered along the back wall featuring their products, prices, and specials. Each letter was crafted with such precision and care that it looked manufactured- if not for the small smudge through the middle of 'cappuccino' in the bottom left corner- he would have sworn that it was.

"Here you are, sir." The woman placed his coffee next to the small plate of sweets and smiled happily at him. She didn't make any movements towards the cash register and he waited a few seconds before finally voicing his question.

"Thank you; what do I owe you?" If possible, her smile grew a bit more, her hands stuffed down into the pockets of her apron, gloves crinkling, and she swayed onto the balls of her feet before shaking her head.

"It's on the house." Oh. His body straightened as her words sank in and he could feel the heat flush across the bridge of his nose; was she trying to flirt with him? Before he could thank her, her eyes glinted, taking in his reaction, and she scoffed. "No, not from me- it's policy- every first time customer gets their order on the house; my boss has a whole thing about it, but it's really better if she explains it herself."

"Oh," the blond locks on his head bounced lightly as he nodded his understanding, "Thank you….?" The question hung lightly in the air and the girl behind the counter smirked at him.

"Alya. I hope you come again." Alya slipped her hands from her pockets, picked up a small wash cloth, and waited as he hesitantly reached forward to pick up the bag with his macaroons and the cup of coffee. The laminated paper cup was warm under his finger tips and an involuntary shiver ran down his spine.

"Thank you, Alya. Have a pleasant day!" Turning to head towards the front of the building once more, Adrien dipped his head to breath in the smell emanating from the hot beverage. There was something about the smell of bookstores and coffee that calmed his nerves. They both melded into an intoxicating aroma that permeated into every inch of his lungs and expelled any worry or anxiety that he had felt earlier in his day.

With one last sweeping glance of the bookstore and its occupants, Adrien pushed his way back into the outside world. The ding of the bell once more sounded above his head and he had to squint through the suddenly blinding sun to find his way back to his limo. For once he was glad that his father insisted on having him driven everywhere- it gave him the perfect opportunity to enjoy the snack that he had just picked up.

The vanilla dark roast was heavenly. One sip had him basking in the glow of taste buds rediscovered- the next sip had him groaning in delight as the warmth trickled down his throat- a bite of the perfectly crafted chocolate macaroon had him salivating for another.

Fishing his phone from the pocket of his designer jeans, Adrien clicked into his messages and found the one for his best friend.

 **'Stopped into that Ladybug bookstore you told me about. Why didn't you tell me it was heaven?'**

Clicking the power button, he once more picked up the soft pastry and took another bite while debating if it would be better to finish all three of them at the same time or to spread them out throughout the day. Another sip of his drink and he was lost- all right now sounds perfect- that Alya sure knew exactly what tasted fantastic. The blip of his phone alerted him to a new text.

 **'Finally. Dude, I told you about 4 months ago man. Did you meet Mari?'**

Adrien scowled at the screen. "Mari?" He whispered to himself, feeling the weight of the name on his tongue. Who was Mari and why hadn't Nino mentioned the person before?

 **'No- some girl named Alya helped me- Vanilla dark roast and chocolate macaroons. Who's Mari?'**

One of the tires hit a pothole and Adrien was jolted, spilling a splash of his coffee down his wrist. Shrugging, he bent his head to flick his tongue out to lap up the hot beverage before frowning. A brown stain of liquid had already seeped into the wrist of his white button down- he'd have to change it and let the dry cleaners know not to overlook it. Another blip sounded out around him.

 **'Oh nice! Alya's awesome; I've been trying to get her number for ages. Mari's the owner- cool girl as well- say hi if you go back again.'**

Huh; the owner. Adrien wondered what she was like- probably nice, considering the first free order- he vaguely wondered where she had been while he was there- maybe she had the afternoon off. He couldn't remember seeing anyone else who looked like the worked there- though he had admittedly been more focused on the coffee.

 **'Will do man, thanks for the recommendation- my taste buds are loving you right now.'**

He clicked off his phone and went back to enjoying the warm, content feeling of sipping languidly out of his cup and munching happily on his snack. Soon he would have to leave the back of his limo, he'd have to go through hours of hair, makeup, and last minute alterations before the show that his father was presenting in that night, and he'd be forced to endure the company of people whom he couldn't care less about.

But none of that mattered right now. Right now, Adrien was giving himself a break, head tilted back against the soft leather headrest, ears filled with the gentle hum of the tires gliding along the pavement, and belly full of the most delicious coffee and macaroons that he'd ever had.

He may not have seen her the first time that he visited the bookstore, and she lovingly teases him of that anytime that they are asked how they met, but he swears, his entire world shifted that second time he stepped through that door.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been two weeks. Two weeks since Adrien had been able to sneak off to first taste the world's best coffee and macaroons and he hadn't been able to make it back since. Every so often, he would remember the crisp, delectable taste of the coffee and physically yearn to have it again, but whenever he thought that there was a spare moment to pop in, something would come up.

His handlers had started noticing. The makeup artists were snapping at him for his leg agitatedly bouncing as they tried to cover up the swollen bags beneath his eyes, his fencing instructor had whapped him over the head after Adrien had been too slow and distracted for the 4th time in one practice match, and his personal assistant was going to dump a hot beverage on him if he turned down one more cup of unsatisfactory coffee. In short, he needed to get back to that bookstore.

Another thing that added to his misery was that Nino had been periodically asking him if he had met Mari yet and he was loathe to tell him each time that he had not, in fact, even made it back to the quaint little shop. After the fifth time of his friend asking, Adrien started to believe that he was purposefully teasing him. It didn't help that Nino kept on telling him about how amazing this Mari girl was- apparently her friends were routinely treated to free pastries- and that he was missing out by not saying hello.

It wasn't his fault that he couldn't make it back yet, though, and with each new morning schedule packed full of photoshoots, exercise, lessons, and publicity stunts, Adrien was growing increasingly annoyed.

Finally, _finally_ , Adrien had had enough. It was Thursday and his publicity manager was trying to talk the young model into going out to a night club for some celebrity's birthday party. His head was pounding with caffeine withdrawal and the thought of a loud, crowded, smelly nightclub had him physically flinching. Maybe it was how exhausted he felt, maybe it was the commanding voice in which his manager was speaking, or maybe it was something that had been building for years on years, but all he knew was that, right now, Adrien didn't want to obey.

"No." Silence greeted his proclamation as Adrien stood up from the crisp white leather sofa that he had been occupying. He heard a small 'tsk' from the only other occupant in the room besides him and his spindly manager. Turning to gaze at the man in defiance, Adrien took in the immaculate suit, the perfectly styled silver hair, and the cold piercing eyes of his father.

"No?" The voice was low, threatening, boarding on manic- but it was the same voice that Adrien had heard since his mother had disappeared- he was used to it, and so, as he caught the shiver that ran along his manger's spine out of the corner of his eye, the model was able to repress one of his own. He had to do this sometime- what kind of life was he living if he didn't have the free time to go grab a single cup of coffee?

"I'm not going to go." Pausing a moment to readjust his nerve under the glaring grey eyes, Adrien steeled himself to whatever may happen next. "I'm taking this evening off to do as I please."

The tension in the room was palpable as he watched his father slowly set down his papers, place both hands firmly on the desk, push back his chair, and stand up without breaking eye contact. If he were any other person in the world, Adrien was sure that he would have been cowering- his manager certainly was- but he knew this was an act of dominance. He had given in to this very ploy all throughout his teenage years and most of his twenties, but not tonight.

Tonight he was going to relax- he was going to do something purely for himself without regard to the company or his father or the press- this was the moment that he started standing up to his own bully of a father and, if this was the only chance that he was brave enough to seize, he was going to make the most of it.

"Adrien." Dangerous, his brain whispered immediately. It brought him back to nights without dinner, locked in his room from the outside, electronics taken away and destroyed in a fit of rage. "You will do as I plan for you. You will go to this event and you will behave accordingly."

He had to tread carefully- his palms were starting to sweat- his heart was pumping wildly in his chest- this was his time to speak up, to break away from his father's rule- he had to try!

"But father-" One singular hand raised, palm toward him, telling him to stop talking. Immediately, his mouth clamped shut with a click- he was well conditioned for obedience, after all.

"You will do as I tell you. Now leave; your outfit for tonight will be delivered to your room in an hour." And with that final command, Mr. Agreste sat calmly back into his office chair and picked up the expense reports right where he had left off. Adrien was stunned into inaction- he could only stare openly at the cold man in front of him, hands hanging uselessly by his sides. "Now."

As a dog to their master's command, Adrien turned swiftly, walking on stiff legs, and excused himself from the room. The hallway lights outside of his father's office were dimmer and gave the home a hotel-like feeling, stuffy and dulled, as did the carpet runner laid precisely in the center of the hardwood flooring and it all made Adrien feel homesick for the woman with golden blonde hair and soft green eyes who used to fill the house with comfort and warmth and love. But that was in the past- Adrien needed to let go of the fantasy that she would miraculously return one day to save him.

It took him longer than usual to make the trek back to his room; the adrenaline that had been coursing through his veins while defying his father had faded and it left him feeling exhausted and empty. Tonight was supposed to be his night, not one where he was forced into another social event with people he hated- why couldn't he ever win one against that cold, cruel man who shared a house with him?

Grasping the bronze door handle, Adrien mechanically pushed it open to reveal a room as neat, empty, and clinical as the rest of the house- he had been forbidden from hanging posters or photos of any kind, and the staff had been ordered to discard anything that his father had not specifically approved of being in there. What was left, was a space that the boy despised- one that he only went to in order to sleep- one that felt more like a prison cell than a bedroom.

What was he going to do? What kind of life is this? The young blond sat down roughly on the edge of his mattress and buried his head in his hands. He had never wanted any of this- he wanted to be a physics professor when he was younger- but every single decision in his short life has been meticulously planned out and followed, and teaching was never in the plan. Hell, he wasn't even allowed to attend public school himself; what kind of teacher had no idea what school was actually like?

Adrien huffed out a groan. His life sucked. He had read articles about how perfect he had it, but in all actuality, he'd have traded the money and the fame for even a glimmer of happiness.

The phantom taste of vanilla coffee danced across his tongue. He had been happy that afternoon- he had done something without his father's knowledge and he had enjoyed it. A particularly hard thump of his heartbeat had the boy leaping to his feet as an idea occurred to him. He remembered where the bookstore was, he had plenty of time before tonight's club event, maybe he could manage to make it out and back before anyone knew that he was gone.

That would solve his issue, right? He'd do something for himself and please his father at the same time! The more and more he thought about the plan, while pacing quickly along the length of the room, the more and more Adrien had convinced himself to go.

Finally, pushing his fears and trepidation down, Adrien strode over to his closet, grabbed the most inconspicuous jacket that he could find before stuffing each arm into the correct sleeves, and gave himself a mental pep-talk before slipping silently out of his bedroom door and making a beeline for the servant's staircase.

He would have to be quick, stealthy, and unnoticed- if even one person saw him leaving the premises, he'd have hell to pay in the fury that his father would deliver. His footsteps echoed painfully off of the walls, and his shoulders were constantly bunched with tension, but eventually he had made it down the three flights of stairs, ducked into the gleaming stainless steel kitchen, and slipped out of the delivery door on the side of the house.

Exhaling a loud breath, Adrien started off down the sidewalks of Paris and towards the small mental safe haven that he had created at the bookstore- if he could make it there, he would be fine, he just knew it.

By the time he actually did make it to the small shop, his toes were aching where his pointed shoes had pinched them and his mind felt like it had run a marathon with the amount of thinking that he had done about his relationship with his father.

He was just coming to the conclusion that he might need to move out and distance himself from the older man, when the brightly lit windows loomed into view and a small smile stretched across his lips. This is what he'd come for- the coffee was secondary to the feeling of doing something good for himself, and sneaking out to treat himself to an hour of freedom was definitely something good.

The same chime of the bell above his head greeted his entrance into the same room that he had been daydreaming about for two weeks and he couldn't help as the smile widened into an excited grin at the smell of roasting coffee that drifted invitingly from the back room.

He took a long, lingering look around, reaffirming to himself that he had done it- he had disobeyed his father- he had made it back to the bookstore. It was then that his eyes settled on a small, bluenette girl, who was huddled in the farthest armchair, knees tucked up underneath her body, and a book splayed across her lap as though she had been deep into her story.

But her face- her face was directed towards him, a look of surprise and shy pleasure etched into the porcelain features, her pale pink lips slowly quirking up into a smile, but he was trapped- enchanted even- by the deepest, bluest eyes that he had ever seen. Did he even know what blue was before locking gazes with her? Adrien wasn't sure.

Without thought of his father, or the event that he was supposed to attend that night, or even the enticing cup of coffee that undoubtedly sat in the back of the shop waiting for him, Adrien took one step toward the mysterious girl and then another. Neither one seemed able to look away. It wasn't until he was directly in front of her that he gathered his voice enough to speak.

"Hello."

 **A/N: This went a bit darker than I had originally anticipated it would, but I've been dying to write about the Agreste family dynamic for a while now.**


	3. Chapter 3

Marinette had been the owner and operator of the Ladybug Café and Bookstore for the past 3 years. Originally, she had been just another patron, utilizing the wide selection of fashion-through-the-ages books that littered the shelves, as she slogged through her fashion degree, and drinking the occasional- amazing- cup of coffee while her eyelids drooped after twilight.

She had come by the bookstore quite on accident. One afternoon the bluenette had been combing the city for inspiration on a piece that was due at the end of her semester- all of the famous monuments and buildings were sure to be used by her fellow classmates and so Marinette had decided to take to the narrow, cobblestone streets in the heart of Paris- as she wandered, dark and dreary doorsteps and shops were all that she could see.

She had just begun to worry that her instincts had been wrong, when a bright red building ostentatiously caught her attention. It had large, rounded windows, a small balcony leveling off and topping the peaked roof, and the most outrageous black spots painted sporadically on the brick surface- she loved how unabashed it stood in the middle of the cream, white, and gray buildings lining the rest of the street- it was the perfect inspiration for her design.

After stepping inside that first time, she was forever hooked. The smell of freshly made coffee swirling together with the delectably musty hint of old books had her sighing in content before she could even curl up into the comfortable armchair in the corner. Tikki, the middle-aged redhead who was the original owner of the shop, had immediately taken a liking to the younger girl and they became fast friends- Marinette often thought of her as a second mother and would call her frequently for advice.

It took two years of nightly visits, hundreds of conversations, a couple of tear filled meltdowns about her future, and one really bad breakup before Tikki mentioned that she and her husband wanted to sell the shop to travel the world. Of course, Marinette had tried to talk her out of it, but the older woman had a proposition for her instead.

"Run the shop for us." She remembered the words vividly. "You'll have the freedom and means to work on your designs, you can live in the apartment upstairs, and you can run the shop how you see fit." Marinette supposed that it didn't sound like a bad idea- the couple didn't have any children to leave the store to and she felt comfortable enough with her experience at the bakery to know that she wouldn't run the business into the ground.

And just like that, Marinette was trained on the managerial end of things for a few months before becoming the official head of the business. Tikki and Plagg moved their things out of the apartment and into storage before setting out for Asia- last she had heard, the pair of them were cruising around the Americas- and she had incorporated baked good into the list of items to be purchased at the coffee portion of the store.

They had their good months and they had their bad months, but Marinette loved it none the less. She became fast friends with her lead barista, who did freelance writing on the side, and everyone on the small staff got along like family. They had their regulars- early morning business men in suits with a newspaper tucked under one arm, frazzled mother's with a child or two in tow, late afternoon teenagers freshly out of their school day with no regard to how late the caffeine may keep them up, and, Marinette's personal favorites, the readers.

Readers were the people who would come in for a cup of coffee, grab a book off of the shelf, and fill the reading area, absentmindedly sipping their drink and getting lost in whatever thrilling tale had caught their interest. She was one of those people- often quiet, never making a fuss, just interested in enjoying a good book- and she would greet each one as an old friend, welcoming them each and every time with a smile while occasionally sending a free treat to them to brighten their day.

It was unexpectedly easy to make sure the shop didn't fail- she made sure to get the orders for what they needed in, she made sure to be nice to everyone who passed through the front doors, and she treated her employees with respect- all of that seemed to be working well for her.

What wasn't working so well for her was the impact on her dating life. She just didn't find many opportunities that made her want to go out and find someone to date- of course, she's had the occasional person ask her out while a work, but none of them had really felt right to her- and so, she stayed in and worked on her designs and experimented with new pastries for the café.

Alya was getting fed up with her excuses. "You want to feel a connection? Sometimes, Mare, you have to _make_ that connection. It's not like someone is just going to randomly bump into you one day and you'll fall head over heels- you have to put yourself out there and see what happens!"

Yes, easy for her friend to say, but she had yet to even give Nino her phone number. The poor guy has been coming in for months on end to visit with the redhead, who Marinette knew for a fact found him intriguing, and yet- she was still holding out on him. It was getting to a point where Marinette was seriously considering locking the two of them in the storage room for a few hours just to see what would happen.

Despite all of that, though, the bluenette had never felt like she was lonely… she had Tikki and her customers and Alya to keep her company- although, it _would_ be nice not to have to listen to her friend offer to set her up on another blind date for the fourth time that week- and she was perfectly content to sit in her regular armchair reading the newest story and surveying the shop to make sure everything went smoothly.

It was a Thursday when she first saw him. Marinette had just finished baking the last batch of macaroons before placing them delicately in the display case. Alya shook her head fondly, springy hair swaying rhythmically around her shoulders, and told her to take a break- she'd been working since 4am without rest and the morning rush had left her body aching with exhaustion.

A simple hand on her shoulder, pulling her out from behind the counter and towards the front of the bookstore, put her heavy legs into motion. The redhead shouted promises of a fresh coffee and a croissant in a few minutes as Marinette sleepily stumbled her way over to the bright windows, blinking back the itchy feeling behind her eyelids.

They had a few readers today and she spent a few minutes greeting each of them before retrieving her own book and settling into a golden ray of sunlight, letting the warmth seep into her skin. Before she could even open the front cover, a low chime reverberated around the room as a man entered.

His eyes swept over everything in sight just as Marinette's own were drawn to him. He was new here- she was certain that she hadn't ever seen him in the shop before- but there was something about him that seemed familiar. Blond hair was combed into perfection, trimmed bangs ghosted over immaculate eyebrows and striking emerald green eyes, and the muscles in his neck lengthened as she watched him inhale deeply before a gentle smile broke across the granite edges of his features.

He moved on without another glance in her direction, but she was frozen- staring at the movement of fabric and muscles as his form maneuvered towards the café- her mind whizzing, trying to come up with where she had seen him before while simultaneously resisting the urge to chase after him. Marinette sat there, ears trained on the soft, gentle tone of his voice wafting in snippets from the back room as he ordered, trying to read the same line in her book for the 4th time in a row, before lightly groaning to herself and leaning back against the soft cushion.

She was too tired for this- how was it that one look at him had her so enraptured? Why was she fixatedly listening to each strike of leather against wood as the mystery man made his way back towards the entrance? Why couldn't she stop herself from peeking through silted eyes as he paused for a moment, eyes once more taking in the entire shop, mouth quirked up in a comfortable smile, and inhaling one more deep breath before pushing out into the world once more and leaving her behind? Why couldn't she stop staring at the empty doorway, gaze raking over the deep mahogany wood and wishing that he was still there?

"He's handsome Mari- seemed nice too." Alya's sly voice broke into her inner pining. Shaking her head and looking around dazedly, Marinette noticed the coffee and snack that her best friend was offering her. "Next time he comes back, you should talk to him."

Gaping at her friend, heat dancing across the bridge of her nose, the small woman sighed in exasperation. "If-" she countered, "If you give Nino your number next time we see him in, I'll make sure to say hello to mystery man if he ever comes back." God, she hoped he would come back.

"Deal." Alya huffed out while crossing her arms and turning to make her way back to the café. Taking pleasure in the flush creeping up the redhead's neck, Marinette thanked her for the food and took a long sip of the coffee. "By the way, his name is Adrien!" Her friend yelled from the back room. She tried to convince herself that the resounding warmth that spread throughout her body was from the coffee and not from the way _'Adrien'_ bounced around in her mind or how she wondered what the word would feel like rolling off her tongue.

He didn't come back the next day. Or the next. Or the next. Marinette had to conceal a squeal as she watched Alya hand a stunned and blushing Nino a slip of paper on the fourth day, but then sighed wondering if Adrien would be coming in again knowing that she'd definitely have to talk to him now- not that she wasn't anxious to see him again, but she knew talking would be difficult due to the amount of nerves that were already vibrating through her body at the thought.

It had been a full week before she started to worry. What if he never came back? What if he had only been in town for a day and just happened to drop into her little store for a pick-me-up? Oh! What if he hated the coffee and snacks? She'd never see him again!

At a week and a half since his first visit, Marinette sat on the balcony of her apartment, staring out of the City and wondering how she could have thoroughly become obsessed with a person after only seeing him for a couple of minutes. Why did his eyes haunt her memory, itching to trigger where she knew him from?

A car horn honked in the distance before a man yelled. Her eyes shot over to the unexpected sounds and flickered around the scene of shaking fists, bright lights, and shocked pedestrians before landing on an ad plastered to the bus stop shelter. It was him. No wonder he looked familiar! She must have glanced over his face a million times while studying the magazines for the latest fashions.

Marinette's heart sank with disappointment- he was a model- why would he ever want to come back to her little shop when he had so many other places to go- why would he ever waste his time talking to her is she was just plain Marinette?

The following days brought forth a more subdued atmosphere to the shop. Alya had stopped teasing Marinette about her reaction to the stranger after she had called her up with her discovery of just who this Adrien person was. Marinette had stopped anxiously wondering if this would be the day that he stopped back in.

It was Friday evening, they were slow, and Marinette was wasting her time by burying her head in a book on Egyptian pharaohs. The bell chimed above the door and she had to restrain a tried sigh before raising her head to greet the patron. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in the gleaming green eyes that had been etched into her memory- his smile was stretched wide across his face, exposing an unknown dimple- his shoulders relaxed as his gaze swept the room before settling directly on her.

She had never been so enthralled. Try as she might, Marinette couldn't tear her gaze from his and her heart pounded loudly behind her ears masking the sound of his footsteps towards her. Enraptured- awed- captivated- whatever it was, she was hungry to see the look etched on into his features. One step and then another.

It hadn't occurred to her to speak until she saw him about to- her pulse thundered below her skin and she could feel the corner of her lips turning up as relief washed over her- he was back, she hadn't missed her opportunity to talk with him.

All of the fears that she had been harboring for the past couple of weeks slipped away as one velvety word slipped past his lips.

"Hello."


	4. Chapter 4

_"Hello."_

The word hung between them like an unexpected invitation to an event that you hadn't heard about and yet now desperately wanted to attend. Adrien couldn't help but notice the way her face blossomed with joy, the corners of her almond shaped eyes crinkling in well-worn patterns of happiness, as one hand came up to gently brush the fringe of her bangs out of view.

"Hello." He stared, enraptured, as her delicate pink lips and flash of tongue rolled around the greeting. He had been around beautiful women before, his job was based upon this necessity, but none of them have ever pulled his attention like the one in front of him.

Her hair was mussed up, cow licks curled flatteringly around her heart shaped face, with flour dusted lightly over her left cheek and small handprints barely distinguishable against the lavender of her apron- it was all together a heart wrenchingly adorable look, but Adrien knew that he was already getting ahead of himself.

"If it's not too- too forward, may I ask your name?" The man coughed out awkwardly. What was happening to him? He's talked to pretty women before… he is the lead model for one of the most popular fashion brands in Paris… he can have a normal conversation.

The bluenette's face flushed pink and his heart thumped painfully at being the cause of her pleased and embarrassed expression. The sudden whirring of the coffee machine at the back of the store made him jump.

"Ah," the woman hummed having been broken out of thought by the same noise, "my- my name is Marinette."

 _Marinette_ \- what a beautiful name- Adrien held out one of his perfectly manicured hands. "My name is Adrien; it's nice to meet you Marinette." The word tasted better on his tongue than even the illusive coffee that he had had in his past visit and he already wanted to say it again.

Her small palm met his, a little more rough and dried out from handling dough all day, but warm and comfortable none the less.

"The pleasure is all mine, Adrien. Would you like to sit down?" Her voice was like the tinkling of wind chimes in a cool summer breeze and he was powerless against the gentle smile playing across those alluring lips. A choked sound of acceptance escaped his throat while he nodded his head- that was the first time that he heard her giggle and it shot straight into his woefully neglected heart, filling it and expanding it in a way that hadn't happened since his mother had left.

After he had taken residence of the empty arm chair across from her, only a small coffee table separating them, Adrien fiddled nervously with the hem of his jacket while his gaze darted shyly between his expensive leather shoes and the amused grin of his new companion.

What was he supposed to do now? Due to his crammed schedule, the only person that he had spent any semblance of time just hanging out with was Nino… and Nino never looked at him the way that Marinette was. Shaking his head slightly to rid himself of the butterflies clawing at the lining of his stomach, Adrien wracked his mind for what to say.

"So," he started intelligently, "What are you, um, reading?" What was wrong with him? Why was his tongue tied in a knot? He wasn't very good at this… whatever it was he was trying to do.

Marinette seemed flustered as the question registered in her brain- first, her expression scrunched into confusion before igniting into a spectacle of surprise and understanding- then, her hands flared to life around her while she fumbled with the aged pages of the still open book upon her lap- finally, she ducked her head behind the gently rumpled cover before shyly peering back over the top leaving only her eyes exposed. Honestly, Adrien forgot that he was supposed to be reading the title of the book because he was so consumed with the adorable lifting of her eyebrows as she tried to gauge his reaction.

He couldn't help but let loose a fond chuckle over her antics. They sure were a pair, weren't they? Easily flustered, shooting glances at one another, dancing around the awkwardness of first meetings… and yet, he felt a comfortableness with her that he hadn't had in years. His heart was already yearning to learn more about her and, despite knowing her for all of 10 minutes, he was eager to stick with it.

"Would you like something to drink?" He asked, suddenly remembering what had drawn him back towards the shop in the first place. "My treat."

He must have said something funny, because the next moment the tension broke and Marinette was laughing and clutching her sides. Adrien joined in after a few seconds, his low chuckles mixing pleasantly with her own tinkling peels of joy, and he felt a heady sense of rightness in the world. Finally, the girl before him calmed down enough to speak.

"No- no one's ever offered to buy me something here before, so I thank you, and a drink sounds wonderful at the moment, but I'm afraid they'll be on the house." She grinned that sly, crooked smile at him once more before standing up and offering him a hand. "One of the perks of being the owner here."

Oh. Oh! _This_ was _Mari_ … Adrien was slammed with the realization that he was incredibly dense. No wonder Nino had been pressuring him to meet the owner- the woman in front of him was beautiful and charming and kind and there was a hint of an underlying sass when she grinned at him like that, which only drove his heart into a frantic sprint against his ribcage and egged on his curiosity to an insane degree.

He took her offered hand and groaned dramatically when she helped pull him vertical. "So you're Mari- my friend has been mentioning you to me for weeks now. I'm glad to finally put a face with the name, especially one as pretty as yours." Adrien flashed her his patented model grin and winked at the girl who was rapidly flushing red.

"A friend, huh? Whose been going around trying to get attractive men into my store for me? I'll have to send them a thank you note." Marinette replied, her words a direct contradiction to the embarrassment painted across her skin.

She turned away and began leading him past the rows of bookshelves and towards the café, Adrien followed her slightly dazed- she thought he was attractive… of course, most people did, but there was something about the gleam in her eye that made his throat go dry at the compliment.

"Alya!" She suddenly cried once she had stepped into the back room. "You can't just make out with your boyfriend back here if there are no customers!"

Adrien's head jerked up to see the woman who had helped him when he first came into the store disentangling herself from a very familiar person.

"Nino?" Last he had heard, Alya had finally given his friend her number, but he wasn't prepared to see the two of them locked together in such a compromising position anytime soon. "What, uh, what's up man?"

"Adrien! You finally made it back; and you met Mari!" The dark skinned man awkwardly moved towards the two still standing in the doorway and offered up his knuckles for their customary greeting which Adrien returned eagerly. "Your dad give you the night off?"

The blonde winced at the reminder of his father. "Eh," he coughed an uncomfortable twist settling in his stomach, "not exactly… I only have about half an hour until I need to be back. Some club thing I'm 'expected' to be at tonight. Really, I just wanted to grab some coffee before being forced to attend it."

"Man that sucks. I wish you had more time to stay and hangout, but at least you could make it out here beforehand." Nino turned to Mari whose face was scrunched up in confusion.

"Wait… you two know each other?" She turned back towards Adrien. "Is he the one who's been telling you about me?"

The two guys laughed it off as Alya sent a sly smirk towards Nino. "Yeah, well, he's the one who wouldn't shut up about the amazing coffee and macaroons you offer here. I figured that he should meet the woman behind the scenes is all."

The bluenette blushed a bit more, her face relaxing into a fond smile, before halfheartedly cuffing Nino on the shoulder and heading behind the counter to start fixing a drink.

"C'mon, it's really not that special. While we're all here I might as well make something for everyone." She glanced up at the other three adults. "What would you all like?"

Immediately Nino recited a complex specialty drink, a wicked gleam in his eye and Alya sighed exasperatedly. "I'll make yours, Romeo, I know you're only trying to mess with Marinette anyway… so what will you actually have?"

A loud laugh burst forth from the other man before he corrected his request into a simpler drink. Adrien watched as expert hands went about the task of making not only his friend's drink, but also one that he assumed was for herself. Marinette cleared her throat softly to gather his attention.

"What would you like, Adrien? If you only have a little while before you need to be back…?" God, he wished he didn't have to go to that birthday party tonight- he'd much rather stay here and get to know Marinette a little bit better. Her vibrant blue eyes were trained onto his and he flushed from the attention before saying he'd like to have the dark roast again.

Small hands moved in a gentle, practiced rhythm and he watched transfixed as her body moved around the small space. In what felt like no time at all, she was marking something onto the side of his cup and handing it over to him.

He couldn't look away as her lips curled up into a delicate smile before she came around the other side of the counter again holding her own cup of steaming coffee. "How soon do you have to leave?"

Nino and Alya were making eyes at one another once more over the counter that separated them while they sipped on their individual drinks as Adrien shook back the sleeve of his jacket to check the time. Shoot; he'd have to leave now and hurry back in order to beat whoever was delivering his outfit for the night.

Sighing, he responded. "Right now, I suppose." His shoulders hunched into a posture that his father would scold him for.

"Do you want me to walk you out?" She was already sliding past him into the doorway as she spoke and he had no intention of turning her down. With a nod, they both began a relatively quiet walk back into the front of the store. The hum of light chatter and flipping pages mingled with the thump of their shoes and Adrien wondered when the next time he would see her would be.

"Are you here every night?" He inquired in the most nonchalant voice that he could muster. "I'd like to see you again when I find some more free time." Embarrassment be dammed; the supermodel couldn't remember a time that he felt this instant of a connection to anyone and he wasn't willing to let it slip by without any effort on his part.

"Considering I live right upstairs, I'd say that's a good bet." Her eyes were crinkled in that joyous way once more. "I'm sure you'll find a way to reach me if you want to set up more concrete plans, though." She held out her empty hand once the heavy front door swept to a close behind them. "It was really nice meeting you tonight, Adrien."

A bit more stunned by the way her hair shone in the light from her store windows and the shadows that danced playfully around her eyes in the dim light of evening, Adrien once more slipped his hand over hers. "It was nice to meet you too; hopefully I'll be seeing you around sooner rather than later."

The pair shared gentle goodbyes, the interaction feeling like a dream slipping away into the night air, and then Adrien rushed his way home. He retraced his escape route back through the kitchen exit, up the servant's stairs, and into his room as quickly as possible without being seen. It wasn't until he was sitting at his desk, heaving a sigh of relief at managing his coffee run, that he saw a series of numbers hand written on the back of his coffee cup.

With an entirely besotted sigh, Adrien realized that Marinette had given him her phone number.


End file.
